The Last Stand of Ryan Bradford
by Ronin201
Summary: The events surrounding the passing of Eric and James's dad, Ryan Bradford, during the Cirrcum-Pacific War. One-shot containing OCs and fanon additions to Ace Combat 5. All respective owners of property within retain their rights.


Captain Ryan "Rocky" Bradford, or CAG (Commander, Air Group) as many knew him, stood in front of the pilots and RIOs of VF-64, the Crusaders. In all his years of being a naval aviator the squadron ready room had become sort of a second home to him. It was a place where pilots gathered to plan their next missions, where they would gather to prepare and brief, and where they would gather to be a team when not flying. Ryan valued strong camaraderie, and as the commander of CVW-11 he had the power to teach that value to those under his command.

"Good morning everyone." He said, square jaw contorting as he grinned a little. The lights dimmed and the projector came to life, casting the white screen behind the Navy Captain in dark blue.

"Today's cycle is to start with us launching a raid on Murska Air Base. CINCPAC has begun shifting operations to disabling Yuke defenses in preparation for amphibious operations to get a foothold on their soil. Murska, normally a place for MiGs to operate out of, has recently been home to long-range bomber traffic. Tu-22s and Tu-160s mainly…" He began, words working with recon images on the projector.

"We've been tasked by the Admiral with catching a flight of bombers as they're recovering from a mission against Osea. VFA-116 will be the bomb droppers this time around, hitting the base while we fly TARCAP. Murska as we know is a large base, but mainly a place for MiGs. A KH-11 has provided images that they are still MiG-29s and they tend to have a few airborne as bomber groups recover." Ryan added, getting to the primary mission of the "Tomcatters" as they proclaimed themselves. He looked around for any questions so far.

"We'll be packing the standard loadout, we wanna try and ambush whatever MiGs are airborne before they can get at the Hornets or the Prowlers flying ECM cover. We'll have a pair of S-3s waiting between the boat and the coast. The Hummer's callsign'll be "Vindicator". Any final questions?" the man asked. Again no hands came up. The pilots were becoming accustomed to combat hops Ryan thought, remembering how it'd been during 1995.

"Okay then, Baker they're all yours." He said, turning to the commanding officer of VF-64. The man nodded and they exchanged salutes before Ryan left to get his flight gear.

As a CAG, Ryan's gear wasn't in one of the squadron locker rooms. He kept his things in his own office, from which he ran the seven fixed-wing squadrons and the helicopter detachment that made up CVW-11. His clerk, Yeoman Second Class Darrel Turner, was sitting at his desk. He came to attention as Ryan entered, papers floating down onto the desk.

"Good morning sir." He said.

"Good morning Turner." He replied, nodding for the young man to relax and go back to what he was doing.

Ryan opened the locker behind his desk and slid out his G-suit. The garment felt all too comfortable now. He looked at the personal affects inside the storage space. A picture of his wife May and two sons, Eric and James, smiled at him above a picture James, now seven years old, had done of his father. With a proud smile the CAG took his flight helmet, closed the locker and left Turner to his work.

The other VF-64 pilots were gathering outside their locker room when Ryan approached. They all walked down the hall. Ryan's RIO for the flight, Lt. Dan Chrissy, walked up to him. The red haired man was one of the more experienced RIOs in the squadron.

"I guess I'll be flying with you today CAG?" he asked. Ryan nodded.

"Yeah you'll be with me Flounder; I'll want to be able to be ready to shoot as soon as we're approaching the coast so keep the radar in AUTOGUNS for a Phoenix shot." He outlined.

"Understood." Dan nodded as they began to ascend the stairs to the flight deck.

The ocean crashing below was nothing compared to the orchestra of jet engines on the deck of the _OFS Eagle_. The young deck crew scattered about, dodging planes as they ran and rolling ordnance to waiting planes. Ryan and the rest of the CAP's aviators walked towards the stern, where their F-14D Super Tomcats lie in wait. The machines were getting old like Ryan, and soon the new F-21A Thunderhawk was set to enter the fray. Ryan personally preferred the F-14 over any of the other jets he flew as a CAG. It'd been his first plane and held a special place with him.

"How's she been Ellis?" he asked the plane captain who sat in the front seat of "Lancer 100". The man hoisted himself out of the seat and climbed down the boarding steps.

"Just fine sir, we managed to fix that problem with the cockpit lighting." He replied.

"Good, I'm not old enough to be squinting yet." He replied. Ellis chuckled.

"Yes sir." He agreed.

Ryan walked forward, helmet on, and rested his hands on one of the AIM-7M Sparrows. He had two of the radar-guided weapons for the flight today, and the same number of AIM-9M Sidewinders and AIM-54C Phoenixes. The pilot gave the weapon a shake to make sure it was firmly in its place while Dan climbed atop the F-14's fuselage, eyes looking down at each panel and rivet for anything amiss. Ryan went around, making his own personal inspection of the fighter. Though the ground crews were held to high standards, inspection by the aircraft's crew was more a matter of personal assurance about their jet.

Inspection complete, Ryan came back around to where he had started and hoisted himself up the boarding steps out of the corner of his eye he saw the six red and yellow stars indicating his current tally. He intended to add to that by day's end.

Ryan lowered himself into the front cockpit of the F-14, Dan doing the same behind him. Eli came up the boarding steps one last time to help the pilot as he strapped in and secured his oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. The plane captain held a thumbs up in front of the CAG's face and the blonde returned it. Before he warmed up the Tomcat, Ryan made sure to place a picture of his family in its usual spot for luck and assurance. As Ryan brought the fighter to life hot air was fed into the engines from the huffer sitting next to it. When the engines were running fine on their own, Ryan closed the canopy. Before him the displays and gauges of the Super Tomcat came to life. His HUD lit up on the clear sight in front of his face.

The pilot looked forward and saw a yellow-shirted plane director awaiting his signal. He nodded and the man beckoned him forward. Ryan disengaged the brakes and eased the F-14 from its parking spot, F110s purring behind him. The yellow shirt pointed him towards one of the waist catapults, where another F-14 was heading. Ryan ambled by the F/A-18s waiting for their guardians to launch. In front of him the line of white steam came up from the catapult track.

Another yellow shirt, a catapult officer, beckoned him forward and into position, giving two thumbs up before getting out of the way. The front landing gear compressed as the F-14 was hooked up by catapult crew to the device. He watched the catapult officer for any signals while the green shirted crew cleared the machine. The man gave him the signal to move his control surfaces. Ryan did, pumping the rudder pedals and rotating the control stick around in every direction. The man nodded and looked down the catapult track to make sure it was clear. He looked back at Ryan and gave him the signal to go into full power. Ryan nodded and pushed the throttles forward. Two cones of deep orange emerged from the jet exhausts, their oppressive heat contained by the jet blast deflector behind.

The catapult officer waited for the signal from Ryan as everything came into place. The blonde raised his right hand and gave a quick salute to the yellow shirt. The man returned the gesture and gave signals to the catapult shooter in his armored bubble by dropping to a kneeling position. With a touch on the deck and a point forward, Ryan felt the big fighter lurch forward down the #3 catapult of CVN-31.

The F-14's engines screeched as it covered the distance from its starting position in a matter of seconds, slamming into the air at 180 miles per hour. Ryan pulled back on the stick and the F-14 ascended into the morning sky. With no alarms or red lights the pilot adjusted his flaps and stored the landing gear. He leveled out and exited the launch pattern. The other F-14s followed in pairs, then the F/A-18s and EA-6s. The formation gathered and turned to their west towards Yuktobania.

"Vindicator this is Strike Lead, proceeding along egress route to target, how copy?" he radioed.

"Understood CAG." One of the mission's E-2C Hawkeyes radioed.

The F-14s spread out around the bomb-laden F/A-18s in pairs, radars silent for the moment. Coastal SAMs had a tendency to be replaced soon after they'd been hit by missile or Iron Hand strikes. Ryan was old school in his tactics for egressing in: no radio chatter except what was necessary.

Far from his reach the soft gray clouds hung suspended in the air, ignorant of the war or the flight of Osean Navy jets streaking by them at near Mach 1 speeds.

"So how've you been Flounder?" he asked, glancing into his rearview mirrors. The man looked up from his instruments at the Captain.

"Good sir, I'm hoping this war will end soon, I have a girl I met a little before we had to ship out and I'd like to get to know her." He replied.

"Well hopefully with the recent developments we'll all be home soon." Ryan said.

They'd just sunk one of the Yuke's submarine carriers (a feat accomplished by a group of young pilots who'd apparently also helped defend the Arkbird, which was now keeping the Yukes a bay a little more). But without as many aircraft carriers after the battle of the Inland Sea, the pilot still wasn't sure they were far down the path to victory.

"How have you been sir?" Dan replied.

"Me? Ah, old. I ain't young and energetic like I used to be and that sucks because I don't like the idea of retirement." Ryan chuckled hoarsely. In fact, this might be his last deployment before he either got his own fleet or he went home to raise his kids and finally spend more time with his wife.

"Strike Lead to Vindicator, we are egressing feet dry.' He radioed, noticing the islands beneath him.

"Okay Durango 304, we'll try and swat down what we can. Give us a heads up when you've dropped your payload, how copy?" Ryan spoke up.

"Understood CAG." The lead F/A-18 radioed.

"Lancer 100 to flight, arm up and spread out. The Yukes are sure to have a few CAPs up." Ryan ordered. He looked back at Dan, who nodded and armed the F-14's APG-71. Ryan looked down at his radar display as he flipped up the Master Arm switch, selecting his two AIM-54s.

"Vindicator this is Strike Lead, got anything on the scope?" He asked.

"Roger that Lead, we've got multiple contacts bearing 280, Angels 12, 90 miles out. Looks like about six of em, MiG-29s." The AWACS radar controller reported.

"Roger that Vindicator. Lancer 100 to flight, everybody lock a bandit and engage at will." Ryan said.

Behind him Dan worked his RIO magic, selecting one of the MiGs to shoot an AIM-54 at. In both aviators' ears the ECM began to beep, telling them that unfriendly radars were out there, and they were looking for a fight. Ryan waited for a solid lock as Target Display Boxes highlighting the position of the MiGs appeared. The MiGs still had a long time to go before they could get off shots. With a satisfying feeling Dan announced he had a lock-on.

"Lancer 100, Fox 3!" Ryan called, depressing the red button under his thumb.

With a thunk the weapon dropped away and shot forward. Next to Ryan, his wingman in Lancer 104 fired a second after.

"Lancer flight, drop your tanks and push it. Lancer 100's engaging." Ryan called, feeling like a Colonel leading a cavalry charge.

"Lancer 104 roger."

"Lancer 111 roger."

"Lancer 109 roger."

"Lancer 105 roger."

"Lancer 112 roger."

The F-14s left behind their drop tanks and pushed towards the oncoming threat. Dan locked up the MiG again and Ryan fired his other AIM-54. The Super Tomcat's wings swept all the way back as he charged in, switching to his AIM-9s.

"Heads up they're locking us up." Lt. "Deer" Hunter in Lancer 104 called.

Ryan listened as the ECM beeping picked up the pace. He looked over at Deer.

"Deer, break now, don't let em get a lock on you." He ordered.

As his wingman spread out Ryan hauled the F-14 into a barrel roll before descending below the Fulcrums' altitude. The big jet's engines roared as he went down below the clouds.

Ryan looked at the radar again. The two sides were eating up the distance between them. He pulled back the stick and began to ascend again. Over the radio the other Osean pilots had resorted to Sparrow shots. The radar-guided weapons had a longer range than the dogfight-oriented Sidewinders, but the pilot had to guide the weapon in the entire time.

"See anything Flounder?" Ryan asked as they broke through a cloud behind the MiGs.

"Roger, two of em still heading on 100." The RIO called out, now completely turned around in his seat.

Ryan banked right and came around, leveling out and aiming his nose at the two Fulcrums. They spotted him and spilt formation.

"I'll take the lead guy CAG." LCDR. Samuel Arch in Lancer 105 reported as he came at the respective MiG head on.

"Roger I'm on his wingman." Ryan replied.

Ryan slowed his plane and slid into place behind the MiG as it made a hard right turn. The Yuktobanian pilot had no problem flaunting its agility against the Tomcat. Ryan kept his F-14 just above stall speed as he let his starboard AIM-9 sniff out the MiG's exhaust pipes. The trademark green diamond appeared on the HUD, trying to attach itself to the TD box. The MiG pulled a reversal, changing direction to the left.

"CAG we've got one coming towards us." Dan called out.

"Roger that." Ryan said. He sent off a burst of flares and let the first Fulcrum go.

Ryan's first instinctive move was to break into the MiG's attack as fast as he could. The G-forces glued him to his seat as he pulled the stick back and increased his speed. In his rearview mirrors he could see the Yuktobanian Fulcrum closing in like a vulture. His ECM began beeping even faster. The light with the word "Air" lit up.

Ryan slowed the Tomcat, making a hard right. The Fulcrum overshot and Ryan was quick to get on his opponent's tail. The MiG-29 broke left as the TD box and diamond met. The AIM-9 let out a steady beep in Ryan's ears.

"Lancer 100, Fox 2." He called, firing off the weapon.

The AIM-9 flew off its rail and across the October sky. The MiG let off a burst of flares, to which Ryan responded with a second missile. The first AIM-9 fell to the decoys, but the second went straight and true. As he closed in, ready to use his AIM-7s, Ryan watched as the back end of the MiG exploded. The front continued through the sky on its same path. The blonde noted that the pilot bailed out successfully and went on.

"Okay Flounder, where's our other friend?" Ryan asked. The RIO searched the sky behind him and saw a Fulcrum circling.

"I see one, seven o' clock!" He called.

Ryan slid to the right and began to descend on the Yuktobanian once he was pointed at him. With his AIM-9s gone and the AIM-7s a tactically unsound choice in a dogfight, Ryan switched to the M61 cannon nestled in the right forward fuselage. His gun sight, dubbed the pipper, appeared on his screen.

Ryan came in smoothly on the MiG. The fighter broke into Ryan's, and the Osean followed. He came down to the same altitude as the Fulcrum and stayed as close as he could afford as the bandit made a hard left. Ryan slowed down once again and yanked his Tomcat's nose so it was pointed at the MiG's path. He sucked in a breath and squeezed the trigger. 20mm shells flowed across the sky in a straight line. Ryan closed in on his prey, spotting small flashes across its fuselage. The two fighters passed by, Ryan just above his second kill of the day.

"You see that boys? That's how we old farts did it back in the day." He grinned as he re-ascended into the main fight. The MiGs were losing the fight now from what he could see. Of course there were still any they might've had waiting at Murska

"CAG look out!" one of the F-14 pilots suddenly shouted.

Ryan noticed the MiG too late. Without any warning the canopy to his right shattered and a bright flash nearly blinded him. A pain, easily surging past the level of already flowing adrenaline, rocketed up his left arm.

"CAG, CAG are you okay?" Dan shouted.

Ryan opened his eyes and looked around. He was still ascending, albeit slowly. He looked down and saw a large bleeding wound on his left arm, just above his elbow. He fought back a gasp. A loud whoosh sounded overhead. Ryan looked up to see another F-14 going over him. He looked and saw it fire an AIM-9 at the MiG that'd shot him.

"CAG, CAG respond! Captain Bradford!" Dan shouted.

"Argggh, yeah I'm alive, I think." He replied, steadying the Tomcat.

"CAG, you've been shot up pretty bad, I'd think you should head back to the boat." Arch suggested.

"Yeah roger that, Bow you take over here. Stucco you follow me, I'm gonna need an escort.' Ryan said.

"Yes sir." The pilot of Lancer 109 radioed.

Ryan banked right and descended. He took his hand off the throttle, now in a lower power setting, and felt for any other wounds. Nothing else seemed to be wrong. He felt shattered bits of canopy in his lap, which he brushed to the floor.

"Flounder, you okay?" he asked, flinching from the pain of his wound.

"Yes sir, I caught a little shrapnel but it didn't stick to me." The RIO said.

"Good, okay Stucco you with me?" Ryan asked.

"Yes sir CAG." The pilot said.

The two F-14s left the fight and began to cruise back to the east, notifying the carrier they were coming home. Ryan's arm emptied tense pain as he lost blood. He didn't realize how bad it was until he felt himself dozing off after part of the flight. The F-14 began to drift a little, which he quickly corrected. They continued on over the vast sea. Each minute losing gas but gaining ground. The second time he felt sleepy his RIO noticed.

"CAG?" Dan asked.

"I'm fine Flounder, just in a little pain." He replied, correcting the F-14's path once again..

A grim realization was coming to Ryan's mind as they got closer. Something he'd always secretly feared. He wasn't going to make it. The ship was still so far away and even when he ejected he wasn't safe until he was aboard and in the sick bay. His mind denied it at first but that had been a losing battle soon after it started. He was losing blood, consciousness, and still far from home; he could do the math.

"Dan, how far are…we?" he asked.

"We're still over 90 miles or so sir." Dan said.

"Good, eject when we get to 70." He said. His adrenaline was slowly running out, but he had now produced enough with death coming to get him.

"What about you sir?" He asked.

"I want to get as close as I can, hopefully there won't be too many sharks near the carrier." He lied, using his injury to back up the idea.

"I understand sir." Dan nodded.

After a few minutes Dan reached above his head and gripped the ejection rungs.

"See you on the boat CAG." He said.

The canopy blew off and Dan rocketed away. Ryan stayed put, the D model Tomcat having ejection seats that fire separately. Ryan smiled with satisfaction that his RIO was safe.

"Iron Island this is Lancer 100, my RIO's punched out. Requesting SAR mission on his beacon." He radioed.

"Understood Lancer 100." The ship replied.

"Hey Stucco, listen to me very carefully." Ryan spoke up.

"Yes sir?" the pilot asked.

"I ain't gonna make it son, I hate to sign my own death warrant but it's the truth." He said.

"Dammit CAG don't give up" the pilot replied.

"That's my only option. Now you boys, all of you do this old Tomcatter a favor…" he said, speaking to everyone on the net. He was going in and out even more now. The Tomcat rocked from side to side like when you waved at people on the ground.

"…Win this war." He said. He ignored their pleas and relaxed. The F-14 went down towards the water and soon the altitude warning began to address him.

"Well that's about all I've written, see you guys around." He said.

Below the waves were becoming more and more detailed. He looked at the picture, still there even with the wind entering his cockpit. His family was still smiling at him

"May…James…Eric…I love you very much." He managed before Lancer 100 embraced the waves at 180 miles per hour.


End file.
